


From the Children

by castiel_ambrose



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Coming of Age, Hopeful Ending, Sort Of, shay becomes a pseudo father to connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiel_ambrose/pseuds/castiel_ambrose
Summary: “What of your mother?”Silence. Shay realized with a pang of his heart, the heart he thought had died a while ago, that he had been a victim of humanity as much as those in Lisbon. He might have been displaced by infighting, or some other outside forces. But he felt for him in a way he hadn’t expected.“I’m sorry.”“Hmm.“My name is Shay Cormac.”Again, a breath of silence, and then, “Ratonhnhaké:ton.”---Alternate universe where Connor is taken in by Haytham after his mother dies, and him and Shay become close.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	From the Children

Things were different, Shay realized as he stepped into the Colonial Kenway manor. Not very much so; nothing was askew, or torn apart, no entry was forced in a way to cause suspicion. But in his lifetime -- two lifetimes, it seemed -- of training, he could sense a foul mood permeating the air.

He had only meant to step in and report on his success with locating the precursor artifacts with the Grandmaster, but this took precedence as he began to slowly search his surroundings. He found one of the maids hard at work, dusting what seemed to already be a fully polished desk, and she only jumped a bit as he came up behind her.

“Ah, Master Cormac, forgive me.”

“It’s quite alright. Mary Anne... Is the Grandmaster in?”

“He’s currently in a meeting with some important folk. I didn’t ask. You’re welcome to wait for him if you like, sir.”

“I will, thank you. But... What’s happened in my absence? I was only gone a month and it’s as if we’ve already entered mourning.”

At his question, she hesitated. The old lady finally took a breath and haltingly explained. “The master... brought back someone.”

“Someone?”

Her eyes darted away to something behind him and he turned to notice the closet door ajar just a bit. It wasn’t very big, only an odd closet meant to store boots and muddy clothes. It almost filled him with unease until he looked back at her and gave a slight bow.

“Thank you.”

She nodded and curtsied back before taking her leave, seemingly not wanting to be in the room anymore with whatever waited. He didn’t blame her, but he was curious enough to decide to take another look as he crept closer. Was it an Assassin caught on a mission? An informant? Someone from his old life? His hand rested on the knob and he took a minute before opening it quickly.

“Leave me alone.” Was what greeted him, the voice coming from seemingly nowhere until he looked downwards at the floor. There, huddled up with crossed arms, was a young boy. His dark brown eyes were fixed in a glare at his apparent intruder, with anger and pain Shay hadn’t seen on a child that young -- was he four? Five? -- in his life. He was actually brought into shock for a second until the boy spoke again. “What do you want?”

“Forgive me.” Shay found himself actually apologizing to the fiery boy, and got over his shock enough to crouch down and get eye-level with the child. “I... Wasn’t expecting to make your acquaintance.” 

“I did not want to make yours.”

The more he inspected him, he realized a few things. One, the boy was a Native, clear in his face and the deerskin clothes he wore. Two, he spoke English almost fluently, even if the words seemed to not fit in his mouth correctly. And three, in his brow and eyes and nose and the set of his jaw... He looked just like the Grandmaster. He had been aware of his dealings in the Colonies before Shay had been recruited, and even after. But he had never mentioned anything about fathering a child.

“Your father... is he Haytham?”

Another dark look overtook the boy’s eyes and he looked down. “He found me and took me here.”

“What of your mother?”

Silence. Shay realized with a pang of his heart, the heart he thought had died a while ago, that he had been a victim of humanity as much as those in Lisbon. He might have been displaced by infighting, or some other outside forces. But he felt for him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmm.”

“My name is Shay Cormac.”

Again, a breath of silence, and then, “Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

He seemed unwilling to say much more, and Shay decided to leave him to it. “I’ll see you eventually.” He remarked, earning a barely-there nod from the boy before standing and closing the closet door, leaving it ajar.

* * *

“Your son seems… interesting.”

“You met him, then.” Haytham didn’t even look up from where he hunched over the table with his maps of the Colonies and the Caribbean. Various markers of different troops and factions dotted it, a map of progress. The Assassins were virtually extinct, Shay noticed with a grim satisfaction. Achilles would be hobbled, both physically and in terms of manpower.

“Just for a minute. He was renting the room in your mud closet.”

“He’s been there for the past week. Barely says a word, or pretends he can’t speak. I leave food out for him, but all attempts to bring him into the fold are generally rejected. Attempting to teach him anything yet would be disastrous.”

“Yes, I can guess that,” Shay remarked, unsure where to go from there. No doubt the boy was to be the intended Grand Master of the Colonial Rite when Haytham ate dirt. Shay might even be dead by the time that happened. Still… to talk to him might do good. Bring him over a bit gently to the right side. “May I stay a few days before setting out? I only have a half-baked lead for now. Perhaps I can… talk to the lad. He has questions, perhaps I can answer.”

Haytham finally looked over at him and judged Shay, scrutinized him in a way that made the Irishman feel as though he was being picked apart bone by bone. He must have passed the silent test since Haytham nodded his approval.

“Fine. I don’t know how much luck you’ll have. Yes, yes, Shay. You make your own.”

A bit of embarrassed heat overtook Shay’s face until the Grandmaster allowed him to leave.

* * *

_ “You are still here.” _

_ “And I thought you would be sent to bed, lad.” _

_ “I want to stay up. I can not sleep here. It is… too quiet.” _

_ “I think I understand.” _

* * *

He didn’t so much as make an acquaintance with the boy, rather the boy would pester him as a child was wont to do and Shay would indulge him. There were times when his visits, which were still infrequent, were actually welcomed. Ratonhnhaké:ton was still wary at best, but gradually every time he came by something about him had changed. Not evenso often in physical ways, such as height, but in mannerisms and personality. He had a black and white way of viewing the world, deeming who was right and wrong simply from meeting them. 

Shay knew it was good he had been viewed favorably since he saw what had happened when Ratonhnhaké:ton met the others; when Charles Lee came to deliver an update on shipments flowing in and out, the child had run out the house; they found him later in a cart of leaves just outside the front door. Shay found him later that night, in his actual bed.

_ “Father says Charles Lee did not kill my mother.” _

_ “I don’t think Charles would.” _

_ “I do not believe it. He hurt me. He has hurt others before. I know it.” _

What else could Shay have done but sit nearby until Ratonhnhaké:ton fell asleep?

* * *

_ “You’re going to need a European name if you’re to go out.” _

_ “Not needed. My own name is fine.” _

_ “The colonists won’t take too kindly to your real name, Ratonhnhaké:ton, I can promise you that.” _

_ “You understand it.” _

_ “I’ve also known you for three years.” _

_ “Then do you ‘know’ my new name?” _

_ A moment of consideration. _

_ “Connor. It’s… a strong name. A good name.” _

_ “Fine.” _

* * *

Connor was thirteen when the question came up.

“Is your boat big?”

Shay was expecting him to speak, having noticed him standing in the doorway for a while, but wasn’t expecting the question.

“It’s a ship, Connor, not a boat. There’s a difference.”

“Fine then. Is your ‘ship’ big?”

“ _ The Morrigan _ is small and old-fashioned compared to most. But she’s loyal, and strong.”

Connor’s brow furrowed in confusion, as it often did when he thought people weren’t making sense. “She?”

“You call your ships ‘She’.”

“But why?”

“I could ask the same on why you’re so obsessed about her.” Shay finished buckling on his swords as he turned to look at Connor. He glanced away for a second before straightening up and looking the Templar in the eye.

“I want to see it-  **Her** . I have never been to the sea. Take me there.” Shay gave a little chuckle, and Connor had the right to look offended. “I’m not joking-”

“I know you’re not, Connor, don’t worry. I can see you have that determination. Which is good for a prospective sea captain. But I can’t exactly drag your happy arse to the sea for a few months.”

“My father said it was fine. Yes, really.”

If Haytham was actually sending Connor out, then he either very much trusted Shay with his only child -- which the hunter thought was the greatest moment of his Templar existence, in honesty -- or he very much had had enough of Connor’s attitude and needed him gone for some silence. But both were acceptable. It wasn’t like Connor was one to lie, either.

“If he did-”

“He did-”

“Then pack your sack and be ready for the walk to the harbor.”

A rare, but genuine smile overtook his face as he gave a quick nod and almost hurried away to get ready.

The trip wasn’t that long, they reached the harbor in less than half the hour where  _ The Morrigan  _ was docked. Even only having been away from her for less than a day, Shay felt a part of him start to come back to life at the thought of being at her wheel again, for any reason. The deal they had was that Connor was still to train with his sword as he had been with his father for a few hours every night, but he was to stay back if they encountered any dangers. Haytham might have trusted the Templar with his son, but there was no guarantee of anything positive should the boy come back harmed… Or not at all.

Connor stepped onto the deck hesitantly, getting a feel for the rock of the boat as Shay had seen so many other sailors do before, and he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of pride start to overtake him at the thought of seeing him on the deck of a ship more often. Shay’s ship, all the better. He gestured for Connor to come up near the wheel and gave the order to set out; the water was calm and the wind fair in the late afternoon.

“What do you think, Connor?” Shay asked as they pulled out of the harbor and into the Atlantic. He held a nervous tension in his body from all the sights and sounds of the shouting crew, but it seemed to mellow out as they continued.

“It is wonderful. Father’s maps show most of the world is like this. However, I hadn’t pictured it to be so big.” He looked in front at the open water and back at the coast of the mainland. “I thought we would be closer to England than this.”

Shay felt a smile tug at his lips. “England is far away, a good few days from here. We’re going South to the Caribbean. It’s much shorter of a distance.” The boy nodded his understanding and continued to look out at the sea, a sort of faraway look in his eye. Shay left him to it and looked ahead to the ocean.

* * *

He hadn’t expected the weather to shift the next morning; not too violent seas, but a drop in the temperature uncharacteristic of the late spring in this part of the world. He was used to it, the thick red and black robe warming him constantly, but one look at Connor showed that he hadn’t expected it. He had left his more familiar clothes back at the manor, instead donning one of the hated “colonizer robes” his father had had made for him. The cotton was fine, but he had nothing to guard his face or hands. Without much thinking, Shay took off his fine leather gloves and handed them over.

“Your hands are cold. Let me help.” He added on as Connor opened his mouth to likely refuse them. He watched with some satisfaction as the boy reluctantly took them and slipped them on. Perhaps it was because of this that he said something he never thought he would. “Want to try and captain?”

The other’s eyes widened a bit in muted surprise. “It would… be interesting.” He eventually agreed, and Shay realized he couldn’t back down after a reaction such as that. He moved aside, a hand still on one of the spokes of the wheel, and Connor took his place. His head was just enough above the wheel that he could see what was going on, and he dutifully placed his hands where instructed. Shay let go after some minutes of instruction and stood close by the young man’s side.

“Seems she’s all yours, Kenway.”

“She.” Connor nodded in agreement.

The trip was fine going down South. Things became warmer after they passed Virginia, and after a day or so were in Havana. Of course, with things going well, Shay should’ve known that things wouldn’t be good forever, that tragedy was meant to follow wherever he went no matter how he might silently rage about it, how much he might want to curse any God listening. He thought he was over this, thought that nothing could get to him damn it  _ damn it- _

He walked into the cave with what turned to be a false lead and left it with a wound in his leg and a few dead bodies left behind. His search for the Precursor box was back at the start; with nothing to show for it. He didn’t know what had made his crew back away as he walked on the gangplank; perhaps it was the blood he has hastily tried to patch up. Perhaps it was the dark expression he knew he carried. Perhaps… Perhaps it was simply him. Like they knew what he had done.

Which, some of them knew him. But not most of them.

Connor was forced to stay behind, a fact which he greatly resented, making sure people knew that fact, and Shay knew he had left him in good hands. Now he looked… worried, almost. Alarmed. It wasn’t an emotion Connor seemed to feel often, or if he did, he hid it quite well. But now it was almost full force as Shay leaned on the front rail with a sigh of relief, weight taken off his leg at least a bit.

“You’re hurt.”

“Smart boy.” Shay somewhat groaned at the obvious statement, but Connor was unperturbed as he kneeled down to grab the man’s leg. “Connor-!”

“The wound might get infected-”

“Connor I swear-”

“A doctor said we need to look at it immediately if it does-”

“It’s just a scratch! Leave off!” Shay shouted, and Connor quickly stood up out of some sort of fright. Shay realized what he did and all annoyance and shame melted out of him. He had never shouted at Connor,  **never** . Even on his worst days, he hadn’t thought to get angry with the one who was so silently eager to please, to help, no matter how much he might hide it or profess his hatred. It watered down and smothered the fire of his anger. He almost said sorry before realizing the words were tight in his throat, silence lingering. 

Without saying anything, hoping the gesture would be obvious, he sat down near the wheel and hoped Connor would get the message. Relief passed through him as he mirrored the gesture, opting to rip the Templar’s pants on the back of his thigh to get a better look at the stab wound. The positioning was a little awkward, and shay silently swore to never find himself in this situation again, but he bit his tongue as Connor started to look at the wound and do what little basics of medicine he knew.

“Why did you not go to the doctor?”

“Hadn’t the money on me for it. Besides, most of them wouldn’t take too kindly to a man showing up with a wound on his leg and blood spattering his clothes.”

Connor gave a small nod and quickly hurried away to get some saltwater on a clean rag, hoping to use it to clean the wound. It burned, but Shay hardly jolted as they continued to patch it up. Connor was tying a piece of a bandana around the leg when he spoke again.

“What happened?”

“Some Assassins. They decided to try and ambush me after feeding me false information. Fought them off and won, but they left me a token to remember them by.”

“Are you all right?”

“You patched me up pretty fine, from what I can feel. Have to hurry to a more reputable place in the morning, but this should work for some time.”

“Are you all right?”

“Didn’t hear me the first time?” Shay tried not to shoot back too harshly as he rolled over with a concealed wince to look at the young man. He saw nothing but earnestness, and a hint of compassion, in his eyes, and through his whole body, and Shay realized what Connor really wanted to know. He sucked in a deep breath and decided he owed it from his outburst earlier to be more honest.

“Things shouldn’t affect me as much now as they used to.” He admitted, staring a place in the wood where a knot had been sawed off and left behind a twisted look. “In the new life I’ve chosen, Connor, I’ve left behind one that… I will never fully escape, no matter how much I might want to. Shadows will always follow me, and those shadows will always have daggers on their wrists and… I don’t regret my new world. But… It will always still be there.”  **Traitor, hunter** , words spoken by those he used to consider his brothers and sisters, now aimed with viciousness by those who didn’t understand. “Forget it-”

He felt a slow onset of warmth and realized that he was wrapped in a loose hug… by Connor. Connor, as a rule, never let anyone touch him. A hand on the shoulder by an associate was likely to be shrugged off. A pat on the back, even born of pride, was to be met with a warning glare. In truth, Shay once again felt as though he was to say something, but it started to get stuck in his throat. The hug was over almost as soon as it began, and he couldn’t help but look to Connor in complete question. The teen didn’t look him in the eyes and quickly stood.

“You needed a hug.” He mumbled and stepped away, seemingly ready to move on as he left for the wheel. “Would you like to sail? Or should I?”

Shay considered everything, looked out at the horizon and the full moon, felt the breeze startup. He turned to an expectant Connor and finally stood.

“Just until we get out of port. I don’t want to stay in this country longer than need be.”

“Fair.”

Shay leaned against the posts to the side, watching Connor as he carefully but firmly instructed the surprised crew, who knew better than to say anything. He allowed himself to relax and keep the weight off his injured leg, and for the first time truly allowed someone to captain his ship.

Connor Kenway would be a fine Captain, someday.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think of it! I kind of like this storytelling style, so if you wanna see more of it come stop by on my[tumblr](https://straight-into-the-animus.tumblr.com/). I'm always accepting requests! Safety and peace!


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